Blackmailed
by MyChicago
Summary: Set between the first and second film. Brian lost his job for helping Dom, but he's doing fine until a guy comes up to him with new evidence against the Toretto family. Now it's up to Brian to decide if he'll work for him to keep them safe. Only, that work goes against everything that matters to true street racers...Rated M for coarse language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except for my OC's._

* * *

It all started with that fucking phone call. Or perhaps it didn´t. Perhaps it started the second Brian decided to hand over the keys to his Supra to Dom, choosing him and the crew over his job.

And since Brian wasn´t exactly the type of guy who did things by halves once he´d made a decision, he'd seen to letting all evidence disappear, even the fingerprints on the cars. There had been nothing left to tie the hijackings back to Dominic Toretto or any member of his crew for that matter.

Brian´s superiors had been mad at him like hell, but he sat right through it all, knowing that for once in his life he'd done the right thing.

He hadn´t exactly anticipated that they would fire him right away, though. For all his skills and potential, he would´ve thought he´d get a second chance. But the LAPD had needed a scapegoat and so he'd had to hand over his badge and his gun and walked out of the office in disgrace.

After that, it took some time for him to regain his footing. He wouldn´t work at Harry´s anymore, since he didn´t fancy coming face to face with Dom ever again. He did like his life enough to want to continue living it for a bit longer. And he was quite sure that if Dom would get a hold of him, he´d beat the ever-loving shit out of Brian for sneaking his way into his family and then betraying them all. You didn´t mess with Dominic Toretto like that. Not without him coming back at you.

Still, he couldn´t bring himself to leave the city, either. So, Brian had found work at yet another store like Harry´s, trading car parts for a good part of the day. The owner didn´t ask too many questions about his past, once he had proven to be very familiar with the business which was all that mattered to his boss.

He´d found himself a small apartment near his workplace, which was really more of a single room with a stove in a corner and a small bathroom attached to it. The neighbourhood wasn´t the safest of all, either, and it was rather shabby, but it was all Brian could afford, since selling his car, the only one he still possessed, had never even been an option to him.

Three months after the car keys-event, Brian had managed to settle in on his new life. He avoided Dom´s house, the garage and the general vicinity, and so far he hadn´t met any of them. Still, he couldn´t quite keep from looking over his shoulder from time to time.

He was busy going through a list of special parts for one of their regular customers and was making a mental list of where to go looking for them, when his cell phone went off, startling him out of his deep concentration.

The number had been disabled which made Brian feel a bit uneasy. He didn´t get many calls these days and none of his contacts ever blocked their number.

"Hello?" Brian answered, keeping his voice even.

"Am I speaking to Brian O´Conner?" sounded the deep voice of a man that Brian couldn´t recall he´d ever heard before.

Still, it set him on edge that the caller knew his real last name. It was known almost exclusively to the LAPD, since he had chosen to give his new employer another fake surname. He was paid cash and his boss hadn´t required any documents for identification purposes which had made it easy enough for him.

"That depends on who you are," replied Brian after a short pause. His curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Someone who would very much like to meet you," came the simple response.

"Just exactly why´d you think I´d agree to such a proposal?" Brian was getting annoyed. He didn´t like people who beat around the bush and wasted his time.

The man must have registered the alteration in his tone for his reply was blunter this time. "I know what you did for Toretto, O´Conner. And I am certain you would do next to everything to keep him and his friends out of trouble." There was another pause while the man let the information sink in before continuing. "I happen to have come upon something that links them to the hijackings."

"They have been cleared due to lack of said evidence, you know," Brian threw in, trying to sound bored and even a bit patronising, not allowing the growing nervousness to creep into his voice.

"Well, if you are so sure of that you might just ignore my call, see what happens and regret not having listened afterwards. However, if you really care I´d recommend you meet me tonight at seven."

Brian really wanted to believe he hadn´t overseen any evidence. But his instinct told him that this was no empty threat and as much as he resented the idea that his devotion to Dom and the crew was evident even to this stranger, he wouldn´t take any risks.

So, instead of making some smartarse remark, he simply asked "Where?"

"I knew you would be reasonable, O´Conner. Meet me at the train tracks where you let Toretto escape. And I know you´ve probably figured as much but just to be sure: don´t tell anyone about this." The line went dead and Brian was left to his thoughts, which for the rest of the day did not centre on special car parts.


	2. Chapter 2

Crossing the train tracks, Brian pulled up to the side of the road and got out of his car. He walked around it and leaned against the hood while crossing his legs and stuffing his hand into the pockets of his jeans, displaying coolness he didn´t feel. He was determined not to let this mysterious caller see his anxiety.

Barely a few minutes later, a black Sedan drove past him and came to a halt a few metres ahead.

A middle-aged man got out and walked towards Brian who seized the opportunity to take in his appearance.

He was wearing a black suit but no tie, his white shirt underneath stretching tightly across his chubby outline. His once dark brown hair was greying at the edges and his receding hairline made him look much older, although he was probably only around forty-five. His hands seemed to be soft and his black shoes were brightly polished.

Brian quickly concluded that this guy was some office-worker, though he was positive he hadn´t seen him before. But then again, he could have been working for the LAPD and Brian just never noticed him, what with his average look and everything. After all, there were quite a lot of people bustling about there.

"I am most glad to see you didn´t change your mind about turning up here, O´Conner," said the pencil-pusher as a greeting.

Brian refrained from voicing any of the biting remarks that were on his mind and instead crossed his arms while saying "You wanna chat or you wanna explain what this is all about?"

The guy´s brows furrowed slightly at that, but he held out a folder to Brian who accepted it. Opening it he found a disc and a few papers. The writing on them looked like the script of some conversation reminding Brian of the transcriptions of interrogations he´d led back when he was still a cop.

"On the disc you will find a video. It features the trucker who shot Toretto's lap dog at their last attempted robbery. He recounts the events of that day, clearly identifying everyone who was a part of it. The way he phrased it, it sounds really dramatic, you know." That was definitely a sadistic grin on his face now.

"Not even the LAPD was able to track down that trucker, so whoever´s testifying on this disc is most certainly not him," Brian retorted with more confidence than he really felt.

All of a sudden, the guy´s face went dead serious as he leaned into Brian´s private space, their noses almost touching. "You think I´m kidding you, O´Conner? Well, then you better have a look at these papers."

Brian complied, sensing that this man was not putting up a show. They were indeed a transcription. Brian skimmed through the text, shifting uncomfortably when he noticed that it contained details of the events that would´ve been unknown to anyone who wasn´t involved.

"You see, it wasn´t as complicated to find him as I expected," the man told him, relishing seeing Brian´s posture go slack. "I figured that after the attack that guy would have had a slight shock having shot a man. So I had a look at the route and found a service station some miles further down the road. And luckily, they had cameras all over the place. It took me a while to get the trucker to talk to me, but I made a promise there would not be any charges against him if he was able to identify all of the criminals. Finally, he agreed."

The man´s words registered slowly and Brian knew he had lost. So he asked the only question he could think of that made sense to him. "What do you want?"

He didn´t even bother to keep the defeat from his voice, his opponent had known he´d won the moment Brian had agreed to meet him.

The guy had started smiling again, and now that smile turned into a vicious grin. "This file could have been at the LAPD´s some hours ago. They would have arrested Toretto and his buddies by now if I´d wanted it. However, I decided this information might prove useful to me. I want you to work for me, O´Conner." At this, Brian looked up and straight into the other man´s grey eyes, surprised. "You see, I am a cop or at least I am working for the force, so I can´t afford to get my hands dirty. More precise, I can´t afford having someone _catching_ me getting my hands dirty. I´m into illegal street races, you know, or rather _bets_ on the outcome of street races. Not the big ones where people like Toretto would be seen at, but the small ones with young show-offs and guys with too much money. People can place their bets with me and the whole thing has turned out to be quite profitable for me…but only as long as the outcome remains largely unpredictable." He paused at that and then continued, looking straight at Brian. "From time to time, you will get a call from me or a text, telling you when the next race is on and who has to lose. And I expect you to make sure that that person will not win."

Brian looked back at him, figuring out what he meant. "How am I supposed to do that?"

The guy lifted his eyebrows at him questioningly. "Come on, O´Conner. You have worked on these kinds of cars and you have driven them yourself. I don´t want you to keep the people from racing, but you will have to think of a way to manipulate their cars, so that they can´t win. And it has to be in a subtle or at least moderate way, so that nobody gets the idea to link the incidents back to me. I think you can do that, right? Because if not, Tanner will have that file on his desk first thing tomorrow morning."

Brian drew in a sharp breath. He knew what his answer would be. He wouldn´t allow anyone to get something up against Dom and the others. He wasn´t a part of their family anymore, but he would still protect them as best as he could. And if that involved him getting blackmailed into working for this arse, then that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I´ll do it." With that, he pushed himself off the hood, got back into his car and drove off, the file on the passenger seat.


	3. Chapter 3

That meeting at the train tracks had been four weeks ago. Only two days later Brian had received a message giving him the date of the next race, the name and address of the racer that was to lose and the car he was likely to be driving as well as the instruction to text back when the job was done.

This had repeated itself twice and Brian had been surprised to find that the races he was manipulating sometimes even took place in some other city nearby, although his victims were always situated in L.A. His client seemed to be very business-minded.

Brian had done some research on the guy, making use of some contacts he still held at the LAPD. His name was Rick Chestner and, just like Brian had guessed, he had been doing desk work for the larger part of his career, proving to be quite skilled at research stuff and slowly rising through the ranks. He wasn´t one of the big bosses, but he wouldn´t be easily ignored either.

It was Friday afternoon and Brian was thinking about stopping over at the Bar just around the corner for a beer – or two, or three, ever since meeting Chestner he tended to drink too much; sometimes in an attempt to drown his conscience which seemed to be wearing a fucking life jacket – when his phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. He finished locking the door to the shop before pulling it out and opening the text message he´d just received.

 _Saturday night, Jordan Gibbs, "The Racer´s" garage, Nissan Maxima._

Brian almost smiled when he recalled that Vince also drove a Nissan Maxima. He would definitely know how to handle this one. Not that it made him feel any less disgusting for what he was about to do.

So, instead of heading for the bar, Brian went home to get some more information on the garage and its vicinity. He noticed that it wasn´t too far from his place. Since the neighbourhood wasn´t very safe, he´d have to keep in mind that the place would be locked up securely for the safety of the expensive cars, not as easily to access. These details were important for his timing.

At half past twelve that night Brian got into his car and headed for the garage, parking some houses further down the road. He was nervous as he checked the surroundings before he got out and started walking. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black sweater, the hood pulled over his head, hands in his pockets. He blended in perfectly.

In his left pocket, he fingered the tools he´d brought for lock-picking, should that be necessary. He focused his mind on the task at hand, knowing full well that as soon as the job was done and he was back home safely, his conscience would prevent him from getting any sleep. He might have turned into a criminal by letting Dom go free, but he did value fair play a lot, especially when it came to racing. This sabotage was most definitely not fair and that was what bothered him the most, disregarding the fact that his work was for the benefit of some arsehole like Chestner.

When he got to the garage, he circled it once, looking for the easiest way to enter it. The building had a flat roof, but there was no ladder leading onto it. However, there was a strong tree behind the garage which might be close enough.

He decided to give it a try and started climbing the tree, once again casting a glance around, but there was no one in sight. He held onto a thick branch, bringing up his legs by propping his feet on the trunk. He continued his ascend until he hovered some two metres above the roof. There was a wide gap between the tree and the garage, but with enough force he guessed he could manage. He crouched down and tensed cat-like, before throwing himself forward, landing smoothly on the edge and leaning forward on his hands, so as to not fall backwards off the roof.

Using a small flashlight, he scanned the roof and found the roof hatch he´d been looking for near the left side of the building. It wasn´t locked; obviously, the owner of the garage hadn´t deemed it necessary, since there was no ladder. Brian quickly slipped through the opening, holding onto the edge with his hands, his feet dangling beneath him. He´d put the flashlight between his teeth and now moved his head to see how high up he was. Seeing that it was unlikely that he´d get himself hurt, he let go and dropped to the ground. A wave of pain shot through his feet and ankles as he hit the hard concrete floor, but otherwise he was fine.

His eyes darted to his watch; it was already a quarter to two. He used his flashlight to find the Nissan. There were only two cars here and he quickly crossed the garage and found the car unlocked which made it easy for him to open the hood. It seemed to be all set-up and ready for the race that night, at least as far as he could tell at first glance. Grabbing some tools from a nearby table, he set to work. He took his time, it wasn´t easy to sabotage a car in a way that someone with a rather profound knowledge wouldn´t notice he´d been actually cheated upon.

The time passed and it was almost half past two. Just when he was done and about to slam the hood shut again, he heard cars pulling up in front of the garage. He instantly switched off the flashlight. As he heard voices drawing nearer, he hurried to put back the tools on the table, his eyes darting around frantically in search of some place he could hide. He dove behind a small stack of tyres in the corner just as the door was thrown open and several men entered, laughing and talking, and the light was switched on.

Rooted to the spot, Brian tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

The laughter quickly died away as the guys noticed the open hood. "Yo man, what´s this?" one of them asked.

"Someone´s been messing with my car, it seems," another answered. He had a low voice and drew the syllables when speaking. He must be Jordan, Brian figured, and he sounded really pissed.

"You sure it wasn´t your friend, Jordan? I mean, the door was locked and all."

" _Nobody_ is allowed to touch my car the night before a race and Mike knows that. Besides, he´s off for the weekend." There was a short pause then Jordan spoke up again. "Search the garage. If the door was locked, he might still be in here."

Brian almost groaned. His luck must have gone on vacation alongside his guardian angel. He heard people moving around, footsteps drawing close to him.

"Kyle, go search the office," came Jordan´s voice from somewhere over the room and the footsteps closest to Brian veered away from him again. He allowed his breath to leave his lungs.

Only seconds later he realized that the office had a window facing the garage and that the stack of tyres was right next to that window which meant he was clearly visible from the office. He lifted his gaze to find the eyes of a young man, Kyle, staring right back at him.

"Jordan!" he cried out and pointed in Brian´s direction. He could hear them running towards him.

Brian acted instinctively. He stood and threw his weight into the tyres, causing them to topple down and hopefully obstructing his pursuers. He sprinted towards the exit. If only he could make it out of here, his car was just down the street…somebody tackled him to the ground from behind and knocked all the air out of Brian´s lungs landing on top of him.

Instantly, Brian drew back his elbow, hearing a satisfying grunt when it made contact with some ribs. The attacker shifted his weight away from the elbow and consequently off Brian who struggled out from underneath him and got back to his feet within seconds.

Unfortunately, the others had caught up to him, some of them blocking the door. There was no escape.

Brian backed up sideways against a wall, dodging a fist aimed at his face, his own punch to the gut making the man double over. He kicked the side of the knee of another that was within reach, causing him to stumble sideways. At that moment, something hit Brian full force on the side of his head and he fell to the floor half-conscious.

As he tried to blink away his blurred vision, strong hands wrapped around his upper arms and picked him up roughly. He stumbled, trying to find his balance as the room spun. He vaguely registered blood seeping through his hair above his left ear.

Jordan was standing in front him, holding his ribs. It seemed he´d been the first attacker.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing in my garage?" he spit furiously.

Brian grinned slightly as he answered, slurring a bit. "Guess I've been sleepwalking again and somehow ended up in your garage. Sorry for that, buddy."

Jordan backhanded him hard, and Brian tasted blood in his mouth. "You thinking you can mess with me? Guess we´ll have to teach you a lesson first, then, and talk afterwards."

He punched Brian in the jaw and almost simultaneously in the stomach, causing him to double over. The two guys gripping his arms – he could already feel bruises swelling from their vice-like grip and his hands had gone numb since they were cutting off the blood supply - yanked him back up and he took three more blows to the gut, before they threw him to the ground.

His head hit the concrete and he grazed his cheek. Jordan placed his knee on the small of his back. "Let me tell you one thing: nobody messes with me or my car," he hissed and Brian felt a sharp pain between his shoulder blades. He couldn´t keep from crying out in pain this time.

Jordan got off and turned him around roughly. Brian tried to catch one of his legs to throw him off balance, but the two guys pinned his arms to the ground as Jordan kicked his ribs twice and pain exploded in his chest before Jordan was kneeling on top of him once again.

Brian registered a knife in his hand and vaguely thought that it explained the sticky feeling on his back, although his clouded brain couldn´t quite make the connection.

Jordan was shoving up the sleeve on Brian´s right arm. "Whenever you think about breaking into other people´s garages again in the future, take a look at your arm first and think twice." With that, Jordan cut slowly and deeply into the upper side of Brian´s forearm savouring his writhing and screaming. Then he got up and turned away and motioned to the others. There were six of them. With Jordan gone and two holding him down, there were three left, although Kyle seemed to fade somewhat into the background.

The other two, however, started kicking and hitting Brian violently and soon the only thing he tried to do was curl up as much as he could. They stopped after a short time, though, and Brian felt the grips on his arms lose. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes for a short time, biting back tears of pain.

When he looked up, he saw Jordan and Kyle discussing and gesturing intensely.

From what he heard Kyle was trying to convince him to stop, having caused enough damage already. Jordan seemed to have a different opinion. The others were gathering around them, unsure of what to do.

Brian knew this was the only chance he would get to escape. He gathered all his strength and lifted himself off the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible. Fortunately, his legs seemed to be better off than the rest of him. He crossed the garage and slipped out the door, walking as fast as possible. His whole body seemed to be on fire, especially his right forearm, and the world kept tipping sideways, but he kept going anyway.

He´d made it onto the street, when they noticed that he was gone. He heard a cry of rage behind him and started jogging, keys in hand. He could hear them coming, but he was at the door of his car and unlocked it, throwing himself into the seat and slamming the door shut, locking it immediately. When he started the car, Jordan had caught up and was banging on his window.

Brian ignored him, pressed down hard on the gas pedal and sped off into the night before they could get to their own cars.


	4. Chapter 4

Once the adrenaline wore off, Brian found it difficult to focus his gaze onto the street and keep the car straight. He just hoped that no police patrol spotted him and he was lucky with that.

When he got out of his car and slammed the door shut, he leaned on it heavily for a few seconds until he felt he could walk up the two flights of stairs to his flat. He managed to lock his door safely behind him and made his way over to the bathroom. His forearm was bleeding severely and he pressed the first towel he could get his hands on to it. He rummaged through the contents of the first-aid kit one-handed and found a bandage that he wrapped tightly around the towel and before securing it in place with some tape. When he was done, he just felt incredibly tired. He barely made it to his bed over in the corner and fell onto it, quite possibly passed out before he even hit the mattress.

When he woke up, he felt the sun shining through the window over his head. He sat up cautiously and felt a wave of nausea overcome him. He stumbled into the bathroom, retching over the toilet but his stomach was empty, for he hadn´t eaten anything since lunch the day before.

He was quite sure then that he had a concussion. Besides, his whole body felt like a single bruise and now that he moved more consciously he felt his ribs protesting at every turn.

Once he could stand up again, he took off his sweater and then tried to get rid of the T-shirt underneath but the blood had dried and it was stuck to the cut on his back. He kept tugging, feeling a sharp pain coming from between his shoulder blades. When he brought his arms up they felt heavy as lead and he gave up, instead walking over to a cupboard near the stove and grabbing a pair of scissors. He cut the right sleeve and side of his shirt with his left hand, for he could hardly move his right arm, let alone lift it.

The front of the garment came off, now dangling from his left shoulder where it was still held in place. Taking a deep breath, he then jerked on the hem in the back, flinching as the material got loose tearing the wound on his back open again in the process. He shrugged it down his left arm and it glided to the ground.

He went back to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. His torso was laced with blue, red and deep purple bruises and the hands of the guys holding him down had left nice marks on his upper arms, too. He didn´t think they broke any ribs, though, which was good, although they still hurt as hell with every move he made.

Turning, he saw blood running down his spine from a shallow cut that would be annoying when he moved his shoulders, but wasn´t something to worry about too much. The sweater had probably made it difficult for Jordan to see how deep he´d cut and so there was less damage.

His face looked reasonably well, although there was a bruise on his cheekbone and a slight graze as well as a small cut on his forehead which would be invisible if he pushed his hair down a bit. The blood on the side of his head had dried and when he felt it up it didn´t seem to be an open wound anymore which was good enough.

His right forearm was by far the worst. He had removed the bandage and towel with some difficulty, because it stuck to the wound just like the shirt. The cut ran from his elbow almost all the way down to his wrist and was definitely deep enough to need stitches. Brian also registered that the towel was deep red, which meant he had lost a lot of blood and should probably get to the hospital immediately. The problem was, he couldn´t. They would ask him questions he couldn´t possibly answer.

So he ended up putting several pads on his forearm and wrapping it tightly and _fuck_ that hurt. He then popped some painkiller and gulped it down with a glass of water, although the nausea hadn´t quite left him yet.

It was then that his phone went off and he almost jumped feeling it vibrate in his pocket. Chestner was calling him. He contemplated for a second whether he should just ignore him, but that wouldn´t make explaining any easier, so he took the call.

"Yeah?" he said, trying to sound indifferent.

"O'Conner!" Brian almost winced at the loudness and held the phone further away from his ear.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours!" Oh, had he? Well, that concussion must have had Brian sleeping like a log if he hadn´t noticed it.

"Sorry, I accidentally left my phone in the car last night." Brian didn´t want to have to explain everything that had happened, so he decided to make up some lies.

"Last night?! Oh right, and you didn't notice until now, huh?"

"Well, it was just a few hours, so calm down." Brian was getting more annoyed by the second. Having Chestner shouting at him was not what he needed right now. Not that there was a time when he would need it, but right now was really bad timing.

"A few hours? I texted you some twenty hours ago! What's wrong with you, O'Conner?"

Wait, twenty hours? Brian cast a glance at his watch for the first time since he woke up and noticed that it was already three p.m. Oh shit. He'd been out for twelve hours.

"Look, I'm sorry, things didn't go as I expected, okay?" Brian didn't see the point in lying there. He was quite sure that Jordan Gibbs would have double-checked his car by now and found that Brian had messed with the engine. So he wouldn't lose tonight, at least not for certain.

"What happened?" Chestner seemed to have calmed down a bit, although he still sounded pissed off.

Brian quickly explained that Jordan had caught him red-handed and that he'd managed to get away before they could ask him any questions. He deliberately left out everything in between, not wanting to provide Chestner with the amusing image of him getting beat up.

The cop was angry, of course, but he knew it wasn't Brian's fault. It was bad luck that Jordan had decided to boast about his car in front of his friends in the middle of the night.

When Brian got off the phone, his headache was worse despite the painkiller. He knew he should grab something to eat and just lie down, but he had promised his boss to pick up some parts for a customer today, that weren't easy to get a hold of – which was probably why his boss had bought them on the black market and safely stored away at a friend's garage where Brian was supposed to get them today.

So, not really keen on showering with the cuts on his body, Brian quickly dug his head under the tap instead and washed the dried blood out of his hair, before putting on a black sweater with a zipper – which was easier than pulling a shirt over his head. He even found some make-up he had sometimes used to cover up bruises before, when working undercover, and applied it generously to his face.

Going down the stairs and making his way over to his car had his vision blurring again at the edges. Damn concussion.

He got in his car and was about to drive off, when he tried and failed to engage a gear. His right arm seemed to be on fire, so Brian changed tactics. He thought he would manage to steer with the right hand and if he twisted a bit – an idea his ribs definitely resented, but he did it anyway – he could shift gears with his left. It worked, although Brian prayed that he wouldn't be seen by a police patrol. He was thinking about stopping by a diner and the pharmacy for food and stronger painkillers, as he picked up the parts and got on his way again.

He then noticed that even steering was increasingly difficult for his right hand which was trembling fiercely by now. He could also feel blood oozing through the pads and bandage. As if that wasn´t enough, his vision kept greying. He tried to convince himself that he would feel better once he had eaten something and decided to take a shortcut to get to the diner, although that would bring him near Dom´s garage. At this point though, he was too exhausted and starved to care much. He found his concentration drifting off and took a wrong turn and when he tried to remember which way he needed to go, he wasn´t sure anymore. He pulled up at the side of the road and tried to focus. His gaze drifted off and found a familiar sight a couple of houses down the street. Dom's garage.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, _that must have been more than one wrong turn there._

He felt a slight uneasiness creep up his spine. He shouldn't be here. He didn't _want_ to be here.

With that thought in mind, Brian tried to start his car, but his right hand wasn´t even able to turn the fucking key, so he reached over with his left.

Just as he did so, the door to his car was opened, making him jump. The next second, a hand roughly grabbed his collar and hauled him out. Brian threw up a fist instinctively that made contact with someone's jaw and the grip on his sweater loosened momentarily. It was all he needed to break free and turn around – only to see Vince's fist flying towards him, hitting his nose. The impact – and maybe the sight of Vince's face twisted with rage – had him stumble backwards on the street, blood gushing down over his mouth.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here, you fucking pig?!" Vince was screaming furiously.

Brian found his footing again and felt his adrenaline kicking in. He knew that right now he was in no shape to keep up in a fight with Vince. He couldn´t use his right arm and he already felt dizzy. He had to get back into his car and get out of here as quickly as possible.

He dodged Vince as he came stomping towards him, looking like a bull on a rampage, and tried to move past him but with his ribs screaming in protest he wasn't fast enough. Vince caught him by the hood of his sweater and yanked him backwards and Brian lost his balance and fell to the ground, luckily not hitting his head again. By now though, the other man was already pinning him down.

Brian tried to get a hold of one of his legs, so as to be able to throw him off, but Vince had grabbed his left wrist with one hand and his forearm with the other and twisted it viciously so that Brian had to lift his shoulder off the ground to avoid having it dislocated. Vince was using the leverage he had on his arm to flip him over and with his other arm being useless, Brian had to comply. Now he was lying face-down on the road with his arm twisted behind his back, panting from the fight.

Vince got up and, having one hand on Brian's wrist and the other on the hood of his sweater, pulled him up, too. "If you try anything, I swear I'll break your arm and beat you to a pulp, _O'Conner_ ," Vince growled as he pushed him towards the garage.

This was definitely the last place on earth Brian wanted to go – except for Dom's house, maybe. He made a half-hearted attempt to break free, but Vince just had to yank on his wrist again to send a sharp pain through his shoulder and elbow and keep Brian from doing anything else other than moving forward.

As they neared the garage, Brian started feeling something close to fear. Dom was probably the only man he'd ever really felt afraid of.

Vince shoved him through the door and when Brian cast a quick glance around, he had to admit that he'd missed this place. Then his eyes fell on Dom who was bent over the engine of one of the cars and he swallowed thickly.

"Look who I found outside sitting in his car and watching us," Vince spoke up, his voice still trembling with rage. At this, Dom straightened up and turned around. Their gazes locked and Brian could see different emotions crossing his face in a matter of seconds. There was confusion, curiosity and most certainly anger.

Dom slowly came towards them and it took all Brian had not to flinch when he stopped close to his face. Out of the corner of his eyes Brian noticed that the rest of the team was also present and they all came over, staring in disbelief at the sight of him.

"What are you doing here, O'Conner?" Dom's voice was quiet and his stare so intense Brian wished he could just turn on his heels and run.

"I bet he's been spying on us, he's a fucking cop," Vince snarled.

Dom's gaze never left Brian's as he asked "Is that right? Is that why you're here?"

Brian had to think of something and quick, he knew. The truth, that his concussion had made him disoriented, was not an option, he decided. He wouldn't show them any vulnerability. So instead, he simply stated in as calm a voice as possible, "No, I haven't been spying on you. I quit working for the force some time ago."

"Is that what you call it when your bosses kick your ass out?" Dom replied and Brian thought he almost saw amusement in his eyes.

"How did you know?" was all he managed to say, as the dizziness got worse again with his adrenaline leaving him.

"I'm not stupid, O'Conner. You let me go and I know you made all the evidence disappear. LAPD doesn't forgive such things. Now, if you weren't watching us what did you do out there?"

Dom wasn't going to let the matter go, Brian felt sure of that. Although he was wondering when he'd start hitting him, because that would be inevitable, Brian knew. "I just wanted to check on you, okay? See if you're alright. I was actually going to leave when Vince spotted me."

Dom looked at him thoughtfully for a second then motioned to Vince. "Release him."

Vince was about to protest, but one look from Dom was enough for him to let go of Brian.

Brian rotated his wrist and moved his tingling fingers as he looked at Dom again. But it seemed as if Dom was waiting for Brian to say something which really got him frustrated. He was so tensed up in anticipation of the first blow and it just wouldn't come. "What? What do you want me to tell you, Dom? I'm really sorry about all I've done to you and I understand that you're mad at me and I know where this is going…"

He stopped when he saw Dom's eyebrows furrowing. "I'm not planning to beat you up or anything, O'Conner, if that's what you're hinting at. I guess Vince took care of that well enough already. And yeah, I was really pissed when you blew your cover, but I know that you saved all of us from being arrested and sent to jail and you've lost your job for that. So, I guess we're even more or less."

It took some time for Brian to register what Dom had just said. He wasn't going to do anything to him and that was a relief. He felt a breath leave his lungs he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Okay," Brian mumbled as he noticed that the ground he was standing on had started swaying as if he was on a ship. He must get out of here. He knew he couldn't lie to Dom if he questioned him about his injuries, not without him noticing it. And he really didn't want to lie to Dom anymore, but he just couldn't tell him what had happened. He had to protect him and the family. Especially now that he knew they'd forgiven him. Brian turned to leave, determined to make it to his car, before he collapsed in front of them.

"Hey, where're you going, now?"

Of course it couldn't be that easy. _Damn._ Looking at Dom in fake surprise, Brian answered slowly, "Well, seems as if everything's set between us, so I guess I'll be on my way."

"You're not leaving yet, O'Conner." The way Dom said it, Brian knew it was an order and he almost groaned.

Turning to the door, Brian answered "Look, I've got to be somewhere, okay, so…"

He drew in a sharp breath and involuntarily let out a groan as Dom stepped forward and took a hold of his right forearm. He tensed and his left hand curled into a fist, his nails biting into his palm. _Shit_ , that hurt enough to have him seeing stars for a few seconds. And there was no way he could cover up his violent reaction, he knew that as he saw the questioning look on Dom's face, his brows slightly furrowed. He'd let go of him as fast as if he'd been burned.


	5. Chapter 5

Dom stared down at his hand in disbelief. It was stained red with the blood from the cut that had soaked Brian's sweater earlier, but thanks to its colour it had gone unnoticed. At least until now.

Dom looked back at Brian slowly, worry registering on his face. "What happened to you, Brian?"

Hearing him say his name was almost too much. But he knew he had to go. Right now. Get out of here and never look back, because they weren't safe if he stayed with them.

"I need to go." Brian turned and started walking as fast as he could without running.

"You're not going anywhere, Buster." Vince moved towards him, but this time Brian was faster. He dodged him and sped to the door, now running as fast as he could, the adrenaline once again keeping him going, although he could feel his strength leaving him. He heard heavy footsteps following him.

Brian was one hell of a sprinter and on any other day he would've left Dom behind easily. It's just that with a concussion making you lose any sense of balance and increasing blood loss adding up onto the fact that you haven't eaten anything in over twenty-four hours, you tend to get slowed down a bit.

Brian felt a hand tug on the back of his sweater and in the next second, Dom had grabbed his left arm and pulled him to a stop. "What the fuck are you running from, Brian?" Dom panted angrily.

"You just have to let me go, Dom. Please." Brian was pleading now, but he didn't care one bit, because he knew he couldn't fight any more.

"Like hell I am. We gonna walk back to the garage now and then you'll get your ass in my car and we'll go home and have Mia look you over." Dom had started walking as he said that, dragging Brian along.

Vince, Letty and Leon had come outside to see what was happening. "I'm gonna take him home," Dom announced and they all nodded.

"We'll come with you. It's time to call it a day, anyway," Letty answered and moved over to her car.

The others followed suit and soon Brian found himself seated in the passenger seat of Dom's car.

"Hey, Buster. Give me your keys, I'll take your car along." Vince extended his hand expectantly, but Brian hesitated. He had been in a fight with him minutes ago and Brian didn't really want to trust him with his car.

"Come on, I've had my revenge on you," he motioned to Brian's bloodied face, "I'm not gonna wreck your car, too."

Shortly thereafter, they hit the road and Brian leaned back, too exhausted to think much of anything. He closed his eyes to keep the world from spinning around him, but that had the nausea come back, so he tried to leave them open, although he suddenly felt tired as hell.

"Don't pass out there, Brian. I couldn't be sure whether you've fallen asleep or unconscious," Dom said, throwing him a worried glance.

"I'm not that fucked up, you know," Brian protested weakly, knowing that that was far from the truth.

"Yeah, sure. In a second you're probably telling me you're perfectly fine."

Brian grunted at that, having been caught out.

They pulled up in front of the house with the others behind them. Brian managed to open the door with his left hand and got out. Instantly, he felt his stomach turn and he stumbled, clutching at the door.

"Whoa, easy, Brian. Let me give you a hand." Dom took his left arm and held onto Brian, keeping him steady and leading him to the door.

By the time they entered the house, Brian was panting heavily, his body screaming at every step.

"Mia! We need your help here," Dom shouted as he steered Brian towards the couch, the others following closely, and sat him down.

"Take off your sweater," he told Brian, who reluctantly pulled the zipper down and shrugged it off his shoulders. He trapped the left sleeve under his thigh and pulled out his arm, then tried to gently slip out his other arm. It took him a few tries, but he managed and as he leaned back into the soft comfort of the couch, he heard the others gasp.

"Shit, Brian, who did this?" Leon asked incredulously, but Brian just shook his head slightly, staring at the opposite wall.

Mia came into the room then and her eyes widened in horror as she looked him over. It didn't take her long to pull herself together, though. "Letty, go to the bathroom, get me some small, clean towels. Vince, bring me a bowl with warm but not hot water. And Leon, get the first-aid kit from the cupboard in the kitchen," she instructed without hesitation.

"I'll fix you up a bit and then we'll get you to the hospital, Brian," she said softly.

Brian half started to get up, but Dom put his hand on his shoulder and that was enough to keep him down. "No, Mia, I can't go to the hospital, please, I can't."

She looked at him in confusion. "Why not, Brian? Are you on the run or something?"

Brian was silent for a moment, unable to explain without giving away too much. "I…They would ask me questions I couldn't answer."

She seemed to understand what he meant and he knew that the look he gave her was enough to keep her from prodding him any further.

Seconds later, the others came back and Vince set the bowl with water on the table beside the couch while Letty handed Mia a set of towels.

"Let me clean your face first. I can't see anything with all that blood and make-up."

It then occurred to Brian that his make-up must have been partly scraped off earlier when his face got pressed into the road by Vince and he wondered why they hadn't noticed how battered his face looked before.

"I saw that bruise on your cheek, you know," Dom said, eyeing him intensely. It was scary how he seemed to know what Brian had on his mind. "I just figured with all that nonsense you were telling me about wanting to check on us you wouldn't be honest about how you got that one, either."

Brian looked down at his hands guiltily. Of course Dom had known he was bullshitting him. He always knew.

"Sorry," he muttered and he decided to make up for it by telling the truth. "That concussion got me disoriented and I ended up at your garage accidentally."

Dom nodded. "Thought so. You were white as a sheet when Vince brought you over."

Mia had finished on his face and put some ointment on the bruise and his nose to reduce the swelling and fixed the cut on his forehead with adhesive tape, so it wouldn't open up again.

She then moved around the couch and tended to the cut on his back, again using some kind of ointment from the feel of it and applying a large patch.

"Where did you get all the supplies? You seem to have all the stuff they use in hospitals," Brian murmured.

Mia chuckled. "I've started going to school and I'm training to be a nurse. That makes it a lot easier to get all that. And with this family it's always good to come prepared. Now I need you to lie down, so I can take a lot at your torso, okay?"

He nodded slightly and tried to bend down to untie his shoes, but neither his head nor his ribs would allow that. He groaned in pain and Mia quickly helped him take off his shoes and put his feet up while Dom put a cushion under his head.

"Are you feeling dizzy, Brian? Nauseated?" she asked and Brian said yes. She frowned then sighed. "I wish I could get your head looked at by a doctor. I can't tell if there's more to it than a concussion. If you don't feel better by tomorrow morning, I'll have to think of something."

Brian didn't comment on that, but there was no way they'd get him to go to the hospital.

Mia changed her position to get a better look at his ribs. "I'll have to poke around a bit to feel for broken ribs. That will hurt," she warned, but Brian held up his hand.

"I've had broken ribs before, I know what that feels like. They are just bruised. One might be cracked, but definitely not broken."

She nodded and trusted his assessment. Still, she had him sit back up again to put some patches on the bruises for protection and wrap some bandage around his ribcage to support it. There wasn't much more she could do, so she turned to his right forearm and gently started to unwrap the soaked, deep red bandage.

Brian hissed as she tugged at the patches. His forearm underneath was swollen around the cut which was bleeding far too much for his liking.

"Vince, please go to my room and get me the case that's in the right drawer of the closet," she instructed calmly.

As Mia used another wet towel to clean the skin around the wound, Brian tried to keep his eyes and mind trained on something else. His gaze landed on Dom, who stood at the back of the couch, jaw set tight and outright fury in his eyes. When he noticed Brian looking at him, he asked through clenched teeth, yet with a quiet voice "Who did that, Brian?"

Brian closed his eyes for a few seconds, before looking at him again. "I can't tell you, Dom. I know you don't understand why, but I need you to trust my word."

But Dom wasn't going to simply accept that statement and leave it be. "You're still a part of this family, Brian. And in our family, we protect each other. So, what happened?"

If only he could tell him that that was exactly what he was trying to do. Protect them from being arrested and having their lives torn apart once more. "I'm gonna be fine, Dom. It was just some guy who got back at me for something and it's not like I didn't deserve any of it. He just…overreacted a bit."

A look of annoyance crossed Dom's face. "That cut on your arm is one bloody hell of a revenge for something. You're gonna be scarred for the rest of your life, Brian, and you're acting like it's nothing to you."

"Stop it, guys. I need to concentrate here and Brian, you're moving too much," Mia said and her demanding tone was all that was needed. She _was_ a Toretto after all.

When Vince had returned, Mia took the small white case from him and opened it to reveal medical scissors and thread. "I'll have to stitch that," Mia informed Brian as she disinfected the skin around the edges.

Brian nodded and braced himself. He knew this was going to hurt like a bitch.

Thankfully, Letty, Leon and Vince left the room and only Dom remained. Although Mia had given Brian strong painkillers before she'd started taking care of his injuries, he was conscious enough to feel every single stitch and he tried hard not to flinch or tense up too much as he felt the needle piercing the flesh and the sting when the edges of the cut were pulled together.

When she was done, Mia once again used an antiseptic to clean his skin, then she wrapped up his forearm with a thick bandage.

"I'm finished," she said, gently stroking Brian's shoulder to get him to relax a bit.

He flexed the fingers of his left hand, only then noticing that he'd been holding on to Dom's. He couldn't remember when he'd grasped it, but he saw angry red marks on Dom's skin where he'd squeezed tightly to keep from crying out.

"Sorry," he mumbled "I must've squashed your hand."

"It's okay, Brian. I'm stronger than you might expect," Dom replied chuckling.

Brian nodded slightly. Now that he was all fixed up and had Mia placing a blanket over him, he felt the tension ease out of him and leaving him behind, feeling exhausted and – as his stomach reminded him noisily – near to starving.

Mia frowned at him. "When was the last time you ate something?" she asked and that had Brian thinking for a second.

"Uh, lunch…yesterday," he recalled.

Mia shook her head at this, her tone that of a mother scolding her child. "It's a miracle you didn't collapse already. I'm gonna heat up some of that chicken soup from the fridge," she announced and off she went.

Brian shifted uncomfortably, being very aware of Dom's eyes on him. "What?" he asked slightly annoyed.

Dom crossed his arms and took his time before answering. "Why didn't you come to me?"

Brian let his confusion show on his face. "What do you mean?"

"You're obviously into some deep shit and somehow I don't believe it started building up yesterday all of a sudden, when someone beat the crap out of you. So, why?"

Brian sighed. "You're right, I'm not gonna deny that. But I'm old enough to take care of my shit, you know. I can handle this."

Dom was obviously trying to keep his calm, but he snorted at Brian's response. "You're certainly doing one hell of a good job taking of yourself, I can see that."

Brian sat up a bit at this, although his whole body didn't really appreciate the movement. He stared at Dom angrily. "I've been looking after myself since I was eleven, Dom. I've managed to live my life without anyone helping me. It was like that before I met you and just because of this whole family thing there's no reason for you to get overprotective. I'm not a child that needs supervision."

Brian knew he was dangerously close to crossing a line here. But he was too fucked up to care, really. All he wanted to do was to eat something and get some sleep and then leave. He wanted Dom to mind his own business, instead of acting like he was the solution to all of Brian's problems.

"Never said you can't get your own stuff sorted out, Buster. All I'm saying is that we all need help sometimes and you look like you could use some right now. So, I'm offering it."

"And I refuse."

At that moment, Mia entered with a tray that she set on the table. "I've brought you some bread as well, but try the soup first and take it slow."

Brian rolled his eyes. "I know." But he smiled anyway and started eating, savouring the warmth that spread from his stomach throughout his body.

Mia sat beside him and watched, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "We've missed you, you know," she said quietly.

Brian looked at her, his expression almost regretful. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I just didn't think I would be…welcome after all that happened. I got all of you in some serious trouble, I lied to you. I wasn't expecting forgiveness." At this, he looked back at Dom. What he'd just told Mia had been exactly what he'd wanted to tell Dom, but hadn't been able to.

"Well, you're back now, that's all that matters," Dom replied.

Brian felt a twinge of guilt at that. "I won't stay. I can't, because of that…thing I've got going right now. Sorry."

Dom tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, the familiar mocking gaze steady on Brian. "You're gonna stay here, at least until you're healed. If you don't wanna live here, that's up to you, but if you leave now, I swear I'll drag your ass right back and tie you to that couch if necessary, O'Conner."

Brian swallowed, knowing this was no empty threat. Besides, he didn't resent the idea completely. He'd have to convince Dom to let him go to work on Monday, but it was only Saturday, so why not?

The buzzing of his phone had him jump and he almost spilled the rest of his soup. One look at the display had him frowning. Chestner. Bloody good timing.

"Sorry, this is important," he said before taking the call. "Yeah?"

"O'Conner, I've got another job for tonight."

"In case you forgot, I just did one," Brian snapped, knowing that Chestner made use of his 'skills' only occasionally to keep suspicions low.

"Yes, and it didn't work out and Gibbs will probably win. So, I need to be sure of the outcome for tomorrow's race. Now, listen, I don't have to remind you what happens if you refuse, right?" Chestner's tone was menacing now.

Brian clenched his jaw. "No, you don't," he answered through gritted teeth.

"Alright, then. The next candidate is Julio Chavez, he keeps his car at his friend's garage up on Northington Street, it's a Honda S2000."

"Got it."

"And this time make sure you call me, O'Conner."

When Brian got off the phone, he found Dom staring at him. "What was that all about?" he asked, seeing Brian's anger.

As much as he hated lying to Dom, he knew he'd have to come round with some explanation and the truth was not an option. "Just a client who thinks he can ruin my weekend by getting on my nerves. I just got him some car parts, now he realised he only gave me half the list. He's a pain in the ass, really."

Dom seemed to believe him or at least he didn't press the matter any further. "So you selling parts again? I know you quit at Harry's, so where?"

"Another part of town, some twenty minutes from here. My boss doesn't care about my past as long as I get my work done and that's all that matters."

There was silence for a moment then Mia got up and took his empty plate from him. "You want some more?"

Brian shook his head. "No, thanks."

"Okay, I'll phone a friend of mine, see if she might be able to get me the equipment for an IV. You've lost a lot of blood, so hooking you up to one is probably a good idea." She left the room and a few minutes later Brian could hear her talking on the phone.

He knew he had to leave, but Dom wouldn't let him. He'd have to make his way out without him noticing and get his car. Fortunately, Vince had handed the keys back to him already. However, it was still early, so he decided he might as well catch some sleep before putting his plan into action.

Dom left the living room as Brian closed his eyes, dozing off immediately.

Brian had always been a light sleeper, especially when he knew he still had something to do. So, after only three hours he opened his eyes and moved to sit up slowly.

"Oh no, you're not gonna leave this couch, Buster." Dom, who must have kept an eye on him as he slept, already had a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

Brian rolled his eyes at him. "I just need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back, don't worry."

Dom nodded reluctantly and let go of him as he moved into an upright position, putting his feet on the floor. He felt much better now that he had eaten something and because the painkillers were working wonders. He made his way over to the bathroom, feeling like it took him ages to get there.

The house was quiet, the others probably being up in their rooms.

As Brian closed the door behind him, he looked around. The window was large and not very high above the floor. He opened it, trying to be as quiet as possible, and placed his feet on the ledge.

It was a short drop to the ground, but still a wave of pain rippled through him at the impact.

He cradled his right arm with his left and walked around and away from the house hastily, begging that no one would be in the kitchen and looking out the window.

He was lucky for once and made his way over to his car undisturbed. He opened the door, throwing one last glance at the house that had been the closest to a home to him for the first time in years.

Sighing, he slipped into the driver's seat and sped off, knowing full well that he'd just left his family again and this time it was probably for good.


	6. Chapter 6

Brian stopped at his flat to get his lock picking gear and to put on a new sweater, since he'd left the other at Dom's house. He quickly looked up the address and took off again, still using his left arm to shift gears.

The garage was almost on the other end of the city which meant that it would take him an hour to get there.

When he parked his car, it was already one o'clock. The job could be done more easily this time. Brian found a window he could open and he managed to work on the car, although he could barely use his right arm and thus, it took him much longer.

As he went back to his car, the stitched wound was throbbing once again and he cursed himself for not having thought of getting some more painkillers from Mia.

He texted Chestner and pulled off.

When he got back to his flat, he dropped down on his bed and felt the last bit of energy leave his body. He wrenched the blanket from underneath him and crawled under it, closing his eyes.

But sleep wouldn't come. Images of the day kept flashing before his eyes; Vince as he pinned him down on the street, Dom looking at him suspiciously in the garage, Mia's soft hands nursing his battered body. He knew that tonight he had lost them, he had betrayed their trust. And even though he continuously reminded himself that he'd done all of it to protect them, he felt like crying.

It was noon when Brian woke up, his sleep disturbed by nightmares of what had happened to him the night before the last. He'd experienced a lot of pain in his life and it certainly wasn't the first time that he got beaten up, but somehow this time was different. Maybe that was because to some extent he could understand Jordan's outrage and he knew he probably deserved some of the bruises.

He stood up and went to the bathroom, happily noticing that the world wasn't spinning anymore and that he didn't feel sick but rather hungry. He carefully removed the bandage around his torso and stepped under the shower, resting his right arm on the wall to keep it from getting soaked.

He dried himself gingerly and put on new clothes. He didn't like the feeling of the wet patch on his back, but it wasn't worth the effort of trying to replace it.

Brian decided to head out for a late breakfast, since his fridge barely held any food anymore. He found some painkillers in a cupboard that wouldn't nearly be strong enough, but he took some anyway.

Since driving was so complicated at the moment, he walked until he found a café where he ordered coffee and a tuna sandwich.

On his way back Brian kept his arm cradled in front of his body. He decided to spend the rest of the day on his bed, to give his body the opportunity to rest a bit, since he had to go back to work tomorrow.

When he came to the door of his apartment, he found it unlocked and immediately he sensed that something was off. He was sure he'd locked it before he left. Cautiously, he opened it a crack and peered inside.

Suddenly, somebody pulled from the inside and Brian, having a firm grip on the handle, stumbled forward into his flat. He regained his balance quickly and looked up – meeting deep brown eyes.

Instantly, he retreated, but Dom was too fast. He grabbed the front of his shirt, hauled him inside and shut the door with his foot. He slammed Brian into the wall beside it and brought his face close to his.

Brian could feel that Dom wasn't using all his force and he was careful not to touch any of his wounds. There was clearly no intention from his side to hurt Brian too much.

Even though Brian managed to keep relatively calm, he was still terrified. Dom had found his flat. Now he didn't have any place where he was safe. He'd been found.

"I'm a patient man most of the time and it takes a good reason to get me angry, but right now I'm _really_ pissed, O'Conner," Dom growled. "Why the hell did you leave last night?"

Brian couldn't meet his eyes. "I…there was something I needed to do."

"That doesn't explain why you sneaked out through the fucking window," Dom stated dryly, slowly regaining his calm once more.

"I had to. You wouldn't have let me go."

"Damn right, I wouldn't have. Because you look like a living punching bag at the moment and nothing is important enough to risk your fucking health by running around when you should be lying down." Brian was silent at that, not meeting his gaze. Dom sighed and let go of him, leaning back a bit. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he asked, his gaze intense.

Brian shot him a surprised look. "Worried?"

Dom looked at him incredulously. "What about that part about you being part of my family didn't you understand, Brian? Of course, I was worried. Fuck, I was beyond worried. You were gone and I had no idea where you'd gone or what you'd got yourself into. And I wasn't even sure whether I'd be able to find you again."

"Well, you did, obviously," Brian mumbled.

"Yeah, because you told me of that new job of yours. I asked some people who would employ someone without asking too many questions and eventually, I found your boss. And luckily, he knows where Brian _Fletcher_ lives." Dom paused. "Now go get some stuff and then let's get out of here."

Brian's expression grew a bit anxious at this. "Where we headed?"

Dom raised an eyebrow and Brian could have sworn he saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Home."

The ride passed mainly in silence. Brian looked at his lap while Dom kept his eyes on the street. When he pulled up in front of the house, Mia came out and before Brian could do much more than getting out, she threw her arms around him.

"Don't you ever leave like that again," she threatened when she released him. But her eyes showed only kindness. They might not be a couple anymore, but they felt close to each other like siblings.

Dom carried Brian's bag into the house and they followed.

Once they were inside, Dom motioned to the couch, his eyes on Brian. "Do I have to strap you down or do you promise to stay put?"

Knowing this was no empty threat, Brian hurriedly lay down and pulled a blanket over him. As he lay there, joy washed over him as he realized that his family had forgiven him once more. He started grinning, looking like a child under a Christmas tree surrounded by presents.

The days passed quickly and Brian's wounds healed slowly. Mia had had a friend come over on the first day that was a doctor and owed her a favour. He looked at Brian's arm and prescribed another ointment to treat it with and thus keep the cut from scarring too badly. He was wise enough not to ask any questions as to why they hadn't taken Brian to the hospital.

It turned out that Dom, upon meeting his boss when searching for Brian, had already told him that Brian would take the whole next week off. Unsurprisingly, the man had not dared to contradict Dom.

The next Saturday, Dom drove Brian to his flat to pack up his stuff and move in at the Toretto's. The whole crew lived in the house, although Vince still had an apartment somewhere else (not that he spent that much time there).

Brian felt overjoyed as he dropped his bags on the bed of the last unoccupied bedroom. He knew it would be difficult to keep his nocturnal trips to other people's garages a secret, but right now he couldn't care less.

Another week passed without any incidents. Most of his bruises had healed, only a slight yellow discoloration remained yet in some places. He could use his arm again, though he couldn't lift anything heavy with it. However, that didn't keep him from working at Dom's garage with the others. Even though the crew lay low at the moment in terms of street-racing, they still worked on cars. And Brian could tell it wouldn't be long before they were back on the streets. He could see their eyes gleaming when they worked.

Two weeks after the incident at Jordan's garage, things took a turn for the worse again.

It was Thursday evening and Brian was looking for his phone which had somehow got lost between the last time he used it at work and dinner at Dom's house. Mia was helping him searching and had offered to go and look for it in his car.

When she returned, her expression was blank.

"I found it," she announced quietly, standing in the doorway to the living room where Brian had been inspecting the couch. He straightened up, went over and took it from her. He smiled at her and was about to say 'thank you' when he noticed the file she held in the other hand. It was the file Chestner had given to him, the one that contained the trucker's confession and the transcription of it. His heart sank as he realized how much more meaning there had been to her words.

Her eyes followed his gaze. "The phone slipped between the seats. That's where I also discovered this." He knew from the stern tone and the stony features that she'd looked inside. And he realized at once what this must look like to her.

"It's not what you think it is, Mia, please, you must believe me," he pleaded quietly.

"I thought they'd fired you, I really did. You've played your part very convincingly. Just like you did the last time," she said bitterly. There were tears in her eyes and the hurt look on her face made Brian want to tell her everything.

The point was he couldn't. "Listen, Mia, I'm not a cop anymore. And I'm not gathering evidence here. I got beaten up for real, the whole thing wasn't set up." He knew the despair he felt was audible, but he didn't care. He wouldn't lose them again and he didn't want them to think of him as a traitor. They did mean a lot to him.

Mia held up the file accusingly. "Then what is this all about?"

"I'm sorry, I can't explain that to you, Mia. You have to trust me. All I'm doing is trying to protect you."

"I should tell Dom," Mia stated and he knew he hadn't convinced her.

Hurriedly, Brian replied, "Please don't. I couldn't explain to him, either. If you tell him, I'll have to leave."

He moved closer to her to put his hand on her shoulder. That was when he noticed the figure at the other end of the hall, standing frozen in his spot. Brian's eyes went wide with panic.

Dom moved towards them, his jaw clenched and his gaze fixed on him. "Tell me what, Brian?"

Mia spun around and Brian was suddenly very aware of the file she still held. It was all he could do not to look at it.

Unfortunately, Dom had already laid eyes on it and he frowned. "What's that?" he asked Mia.

His sister remained silent, unable to decide whether she should believe Brian or not.

Dom grew impatient and he grabbed the file from Mia's hand.

His instinct of self-preservation told Brian to run, but his feet felt glued to the spot. He knew that if he fled the house now, he'd never get a chance to explain anything.

He saw Dom's eyes skimming the text, an incredulous look on his face. When he looked up, the disappointment in his eyes quickly changed into rage. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Listen, Dom, I haven't been spying on you, I promise," Brian said hastily, his hands raised halfway, indicating that he meant no harm.

"Then you better have a very good explanation why you keep evidence against my family in your fucking car," Dom stated and took a step towards Brian.

On reflex, Brian took a step back. He shook his head, sadness in his eyes, because he had an uneasy feeling about what would happen next. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Dom didn't move. He took a deep breath before he said "Brian, I'm gonna ask this only once and I expect an honest answer: are you still a cop?"

"No, I'm not," Brian almost whispered.

Dom watched him closely for a moment then nodded thoughtfully. "I believe you. Still, you've got a choice to make. You can either tell me what you're up to and where you got this file or you can take your stuff and leave. Because as long as I don't know why you possess this evidence, I'll protect the rest of the family from you."

And there it was. The moment Brian felt himself tearing apart. He could stay silent and leave and thereby protect his family or he could stay and get Dom and the others involved. It wasn't really a choice in his eyes, although Dom didn't know that. But Brian wouldn't be responsible for them getting arrested, just because they tried to keep Chestner from blackmailing him.

He found it hard to breathe as he met Dom's gaze. He bit his lip and shook his head, indicating he wouldn't say anything. He registered the disappointed look on Dom's face, just before he passed him on his way to the stairs to pack up his things.

Barely ten minutes later, he opened the front door, a bag over his shoulder. As he went down the sidewalk towards his car, he heard Mia call out for him.

When he turned around, she came up to him, tears in her eyes, although she wouldn't allow them to fall. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but she seemed at a loss of words. Instead, Mia drew him into a breath-taking hug.

When she let go, Brian said quietly "Take care."

He was unaware of Dom at the kitchen window, watching as he took off.


	7. Chapter 7

Brian drove back to his old flat automatically. Luckily, the month wasn't over yet, so it was still vacant, even if he didn't have the keys anymore. Not that locked doors had ever stopped him. He opened it using his lock picking gear and threw his bag onto the bed.

Right on cue, his phone buzzed – Chestner had sent him a message. Since it had been two weeks without any jobs, Brian could figure what this would be about.

Sighing, he opened the text. _Meet me at the usual place in half an hour._

Brian frowned. Why would Chestner think it necessary to arrange for another meeting? Not that Brian had a choice. He'd show up, no matter what.

Right on time Brian halted his car behind Chestner's and walked up to him. He could see Chestner's gaze wandering over the tinge of yellow on his cheek, the last remnant of a bruise, and his bandaged forearm, which was clearly visible, since Brian was wearing a short-sleeved shirt.

"That happen at Gibbs'?" Chestner asked, jerking his chin in the direction of Brian's arm.

"Why do you care?" Brian retorted dryly.

"Just wondering. Shortly after the race two weeks ago, Gibbs boasted about having kicked the ass of some burglar or so he and his friends found at his garage. I figured he probably meant you. Turns out he wasn't exaggerating."

Brian decided to cut straight to the point. "Yeah, whatever. Why did you wanna meet?"

"I've heard you've moved in at Toretto's?"

That comment caught Brian completely off guard. How the hell did that dumbass get to know that? He didn't let his concern show, though, and even managed to keep his voice in check when he replied "Yeah, why you asking?"

Chestner seemed disappointed by the other's calm response. He crossed his arms and leaned with his back against his car. "Because I told you not to tell anyone about our arrangement."

"They don't know anything about it, so no need for you to worry." Brian answered curtly.

"That's good to know. Still, I can't help wondering how long you will manage to keep your…trips at night a secret, if you're living in a house with a bunch of people who could notice." Chestner paused at that, but Brian didn't deem it necessary to answer. Chestner leaned forward coming closer to him, a threatening edge to his tone. "Well, I guess that's not my problem. But let me get one thing straight: if Toretto or any of the others get involved, I'll find out. I've got some contacts and if I hear anything from them, Toretto's in for it. Understood?"

At that, Brian lost it. He grabbed the collar of Chestner's suit jacket and shoved him into the car, stepping closer. "Now you listen very closely, Chestner. I'm risking one hell of a lot working for you and I don't like it. But I'll do the job as long as the file stays away from anyone's desk. But if you turn the crew in, I swear I'll talk. I was a cop once, don't think I don't have any contacts of my own. I'll make sure they go after you for the shit you're pulling. So you better think twice before you try to threaten me again."

With that, Brian let the other man go, got into his car and slammed the door shut in anger. He sped off cursing that goddamn son of a bitch that was screwing his life.

The following night, Brian got yet another text with a new job. The garage turned out to be as secured as a bank and it took Brian most of the night to accomplish his task.

Ill-tempered and tired he returned to his flat at half past five in the morning and dropped down on the bed as if dead.

When he got up the next afternoon he felt the need to blow off some steam, so he decided to go running which he hadn't done in a while.

Making his way down the sidewalk of a deserted street, he heard the engine of a car coming up from behind. He didn't pay it any thought until it pulled up right in front of him and he saw Dom getting out and walking up to him.

Brian stopped and waited what would happen next.

"Get in the car, Brian," Dom told him, standing in front of him.

Brian scowled at the commanding tone. "Why should I?"

Dom crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. "You look as if you didn't sleep much, O'Conner. Is that because it took you so damn long to get into that garage last night?" Brian gaped in astonishment at Dom's words. He seemed speechless, so Dom continued, "Get in the car now. You owe me an explanation."

That got Brian back to his senses. He shook his head. "I don't owe you shit. Now leave me alone." He turned to leave, but a hand got an iron grip of his upper arm. Dom dragged him effortlessly to the passenger seat, opened the door with the other hand and shoved him inside.

Before Brian could recover from his shock, Dom already slipped into the driver's seat and revved the engine. Brian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, staying silent for the whole ride.

When they got to Dom's house, Brian opened his door and joined Dom in walking to the house. He knew he wouldn't get around this conversation, not if Dom had seen him the other night.

The only thing Brian had to decide now was if he could actually tell him the truth. He didn't want to, but he had a feeling that this time Dom wouldn't give up until he'd found out what was going on.

Dom motioned to the couch and Brian managed a movement that was somewhere between a nod and a shrug of his shoulders.

Dom sat down facing Brian. For a few seconds, they simply stared at each other.

Finally, Dom broke the silence. "So, what're you doing in other people's garages in the middle of the night?"

Brian shook his head slowly. "Look, I couldn't give you an explanation two days ago, so I left. Now, why do you drag me back here and start asking questions all over again?"

Dom snorted, unnerved. "When you left, I followed you. And even if I don't know what all this means, I do know that the suit guy you met practically reeked of LAPD. So, I wanna know what the hell's going on?"

Brian's face faltered. Dom even knew about Chestner. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, Dom," he said quietly, eyes on the floor between them. "But for one thing I've been forbidden to tell anyone and for the other I know you'd do something stupid if you knew."

At that Dom arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How about you tell me and I promise to think before I act? Then it wouldn't be something completely stupid."

That had Brian chuckling. "How about you forget what you've seen and trust that I'll set things straight myself?"

"If you could do that, you would've done it already."

"True," Brian sighed, fiddling with a loose thread of the bandage around his forearm.

"Seriously, Brian, you obviously need some help here." Dom's voice was stern now.

And Brian's walls broke. Despair found its way into his voice. "All I'm trying to do is to protect you. All of you. I don't want anyone to go after you, I couldn't bear the thought of being responsible for your arrest. And I know you wouldn't go back to Lompoc."

Dom frowned. "That file 'bout the trucker doesn't actually belong to you, right? Someone else gave it to you." He took Brian's silence for assent. "Was it that cop? What does he want?"

Brian buried his face in his hands. "He got me working for him."

"He blackmails you?" Dom's hands were clenched into fists. "What's it you have to do for him?"

"He's into bets for street races. I sabotage cars of potential winners from time to time to make sure others win so he makes more profit. It's none of the big races, just on a small scale. I hate it, but he's got enough evidence to get each and every one arrested. He could tear your life apart in an instant. I didn't have a choice."

"I understand," Dom said softly, his eyes sad. "How did you get all beat up, then?"

"Bad luck. Got caught red-handed by the owner of a garage the other night. He had some friends with him and is obsessed with his car. Thought a scar would keep me from messing with other people's cars."

"I'd certainly like to pay him a visit," Dom growled, but Brian shook his head.

"Don't. He may have taken it too far, but how'd you react if someone tried to shit you like that?"

"Similar, I guess. Though I'm not the knife type of guy."

Brian actually laughed at that. "No, you'd probably use a wrench and smash his head."

That got Dom chuckling, too. However, he put up a serious face again quickly as he said, "I think we should pay that LAPD dumbass a visit."

"Dom, didn't you listen to me? You go after him, you go back to jail!"

"We'll leave for Mexico right afterwards, Brian," Dom said quietly. "They won't get us."

Brian shook his head frantically. "No, no, you can't do that, I'll just keep working for him, it's okay."

"It won't work out in the long run, you know that. He'll use that evidence against you and make you do worse stuff. People like him get greedier if they succeed. Now, when we're leaving it's your choice, if you come with us or if you just ditch L.A. I guess you could move somewhere else, get some fake papers. They're not too interested in you. "

"This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you anything about it in the first place," Brian replied sadly, "You'd lose everything you've got here, Dom. Your life would be taken from you once again. Please don't."

"I'll be with my family, Brian. We'll all be safe. I don't care about anything else as long as I've got that," Dom said and the determination in his eyes told Brian that the decision had been made.

Dom talked to Letty, Vince, Leon and Mia that night. They all agreed to his plan and started packing their stuff and loading it into their cars.

Brian's sleep was restless. He kept waking up and staring at the ceiling, thinking. He owed this family so much if they went through with this. They gave up the possibility of living in the States, just so that Chestner wouldn't get away with what he was doing.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, the crew and Brian drove to Chestner's house. Brian had made use of some old contacts of his to get the guy's address and some further information on him.

He lived alone, his wife had left him after she'd found out about his affair with a colleague. She'd taken their child with her and had broken off any contact. So, their chances were high that he'd be home on his own.

The house was situated in a more upmarket part of the city, with a long driveway and big wooden double doors as a front door.

Letty went up and rang the bell while the others stood to the side so that they would be hidden from view.

Chestner opened; instead of his usual suit he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He looked confused and even a bit annoyed, obviously he hadn't expected anyone. "Yeah?"

Letty put on her biggest smile and leant forward a bit, granting him a look into the deep décolleté of her tank top. "Excuse me for bothering you, sir, but my car broke and I don't have my cell with me. I was wondering if maybe I could use your phone to quickly call the towing service?"

Leaning back, she put her hand on the doorframe and pushed out her hip a bit.

Chestner looked her up and down and licked his lips, hardly able to look up into her eyes again. "Of course, come on in…" He opened the door completely and stepped aside.

"Thank you so much," Letty replied and walked past, very aware of his eyes on her butt. He was closing the door, when Dom stepped forward and pushed his way through, the others in his wake.

"What the hell…?!" Chestner managed to say angrily before Dom's fist connected with his jaw and sent him flying backwards. He crashed into the stairs that led to the first floor and cried out as they dug into his back. Dom pulled him up and shoved him through to the living room where he made him sit down on a chair.

"I think you know who I am," Dom started but got interrupted.

"I have no idea who you are or what you want," Chestner shouted.

Dom punched him in the nose and heard a satisfying crunch as Chestner was almost knocked over with the impact, his hands flying to his face.

Dom leaned in close, grabbing his collar. "Now you shut up and listen to me, asshole. I know you got that evidence against us and I know you've been using it against Brian. Now let me tell you one thing: Brian is not working for you anymore. And from now on, you'll stay out of street races. If you don't, I promise I'll pay you another visit."

Dom sank his fist into Chestner's stomach repeatedly before stepping back and allowing Brian to get some revenge. Brian pulled Chestner up roughly and threw him into a nearby shelf which collapsed and half-buried him underneath. He went over and pulled him to his feet again. " _Never_ threaten my family again, you bastard," he growled and landed a final blow on his temple, knocking him unconscious.

"Now that felt good," he said, grinning and flexing his fingers.

"Certainly did," Dom agreed, "let's get outta here before anyone calls the cops."

They got back into their cars and sped back to the Toretto house. There, they gathered in the kitchen and it was silent for a few seconds.

"Guess this is it, then," Brian finally said, leaning against the counter.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Vince asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Brian shook his head. "Nah, man. There's someone I wanna pay a visit down in Florida, some old friend of mine. Besides, the racing scene's supposed to be quite big down there. I think I'll dip into it and join you guys later on when things've calmed down a bit."

"Shame, I was just getting used to you," Vince said, smirking.

"Well, then it's goodbye for now. See you down there, man," Leon went over, they shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.

One by one, they went up to Brian. He hugged Letty and Mia before turning to Dom. "Thanks for…you know, everything."

Dom pulled him into a hug. "That's what you do in a family. You're there for each other." He released him. "See you in Mexico, Buster."

Brian nodded and grinned. "Yeah, see you in Mexico."

* * *

AN: Hope you enjoyed! Special thanks go to stephannieteresa1, who's been the first to post a review. I'd love to get more reviews on this one, positive or negative :-)


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